Blind Journey
by HairyLlama
Summary: Blind does not mean incapable. Woman does not mean frailty. Faye does not mean fable. These thick-headed dwarrow do not understand. And that meddling wizard, Gandalf. He treads dark waters and I fear what lies beyond. With luck, this journey to the Lonely Mountain will pass with ease. But Fate has already written this story... I only hope that she rewrites the end. (R&R) ThorinXOC
1. Chapter 1

**Hiya, This is a new story I've been writing. (I have two others that I DO maybe plan on continuing) I just have to get this idea outta my head, tbh.**

 **This story will follow the Hobbit movies. I hope you guys like it! Please Read and Review. Constructive criticism is welcomed. :)**

 **ENJOY~**

 **Disclamer:** I do not own nor claim to own (though, I do wish to own lol) the works of J. R. R. Tolkien.

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Many pity me for my blindness. They do not understand that this ailment affects me not. I do not need my sight to be aware of my surroundings. My other senses have become acute in the absence of my vision. I know there are five children to my left; They are playing with small stones. Ahead of me is a food stand; vegetables and fruits and the like are sold, though i do smell a slight putrid odor. My destination, a pub, is directly to my right, now. With all of the rowdy yelling, laughter, and singing, it is difficult to miss. Turning and extending my arm forward, I feel the sturdiness of the pub's wooden door. With a strong push, it opens.

The smell enveloping me is not pleasant in the slightest, but it is to be expected in such a place. Stepping forward slightly, I listen intently for a certain sound. Tankards clanking, plates clacking, feet stomping… There! The sound is very soft, but I know the peculiar sound of _that_ staff tapping slightly against the dirtied floor, the rustling of _those_ robes, and the crinkling of _his_ beard. Yes, I know these sounds to be from a specific, troublesome wizard.

"Gandalf, it is not very kind to meet a young lady in such a… boisterous, drunk-filled establishment such as this." I say after making my way carefully between large men and scattered chairs. Slightly chuckling, the wizard gently takes my hands and leads me to a chair on the other side of the table.

"Now, now Lady Linnea, I would not have had you meet me here unless I thought you were familiar with these sorts of surroundings," He quietly sits down, "How did you fare on the journey here?"

"Well. Despite a thief or two , the two days of travel was quite uneventful."

"Thieves? Do they walk freely?" He lightheartedly questions.

"Of course… Perhaps a few bruises; Those will heal quite nicely. Their shattered pride, now, that I believe will take longer."

"You have not changed, Linnea. That is not to say that your beauty remains the same, it grows every moment, dear."

"Hm. Flattery will lead you to a door-less end, Gandalf. Now tell me, what did you summon my presence for? You are not one to sit idle for a small chat." I turn my face in his direction, shifting my gaze in the position I think his eyes to be.

He shuffles slightly in his seat, "You know me well, Linnea. I have certain business that may interest you."

I could not help but narrow my eyes. One must always be wary of offers such as this, even more so when the meddling wizard is involved.

"If it interest me or not, I know you will not allow me to refuse," Propping my head against my palm, I urge Gandalf to continue, "Out with it before I lose my ability to listen, as well."

"Yes, you certainly have not changed…" Gandalf mutters lowly to himself.

"Hm? I did not quite hear that one, friend. Speak louder, if you will." I cannot help but tease the old man.

He grumbles before continuing, " Are you familiar with the Lonely Mountain?"

"Erebor… claimed by a Dragon. Yes, I believe most know of this. What of it?"

"Allow me to ask, then: Do you know of the prophecy?" The wizard's voice was low. I suspect this is not for all ears.

Furrowing my brows in thought, I remained silent for a moment. The story of the Lonely Mountain and it's demise is a sad one but widely known throughout these parts of the Middle-Earth. The prophecy… Oh yes…

"Gandalf, friend, whatever your plan is, I urge you to leave it be. No good shall come from it. 'And all shall fail in sadness, And the lake shall shine and burn'... You cannot change what Fate has written."

"I believe there is yet a better outcome for this story, Linnea. I have two persons in mind that will ensure this…" Though I cannot see the wizard, I know by his tone that there is an assured gleam in his eyes.

"Is there no end to your meddling?," I cannot resist a sigh, "... Two. You said there are two that will ensure your plan."

"I did. You, my dear, are one. The other… you will know when the meeting takes place." He explains no further as he rises from his seat, intending to leave I suppose.

"Gandalf, I do not recall having said that I agreed to your scheme."

He merely chuckles, taking hold of my hands, "No, you did not, dear. However… I know I will be seeing you. Take to the trees, they will guide you."

His presence disappears suddenly, and I am left alone. I do not know who is the fool. The wizard for taking on such a task… or me, for taking the bait he left. Oh, how frustrating. I knew I would fall prey to his plans. I only hope this unsettling in my core is wrong. Dear Illúvatar, please let it be wrong.


	2. Chapter 2

**Annnnnd chapter 2 is here! I hope anyone who reads it, enjoys. (I'm kinda self-conscious about my writing skills)**

 **Special Thanks to** _inperfection_ , _TwillinOfTheWillows_ , and _angel897_ **for reviewing! :D And also a huge thanks to anyone who followed/favorited this story!**

 **Reviews are always nice! Throw some constructive criticism my way!**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own. ;-;**

 **ENJOY!**

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I take no time to dally. I make my way to the call of the trees. Once within the safe grasp of the forest, I stand, listening.

Men and dwarrow are deaf to the cries of the greenery around them. Elves hear their mutters… but the Faye, we hear them clearly. Though I cannot see, the nature of this world acts as my sight.

The shire… I have heard talk of this area. 'Land of the Children' as Men take to calling it. Home of the Hobbits. What in Arda is that Gandalf planning? Nevertheless, I start my journey to the shire. Specifically, Hobbiton. I will only know the whole of Gandalf's scheme at the meeting that is to take place there.

~o~

Two weeks. Two weeks filled with uneventful days is what it took to arrive. From what I can tell, night has fallen. The cool, quiet air is testament. There are not many souls about. I hear the pattering of feet to my right, quiet whispering ahead of me, and nothing else. But I sense much peace here. The tinkering wisps of the flowers is quite loud. I can only wonder how beautiful it is for the various plants here to be so delighted.

Stepping forward, a soft vine slowly winds around my fingers, stopping my tracks. I listen to it's lilting whispers as it informs me where I must go. I know this is Gandalf's doing. The wizard knows my connection with nature and thus far has used this to his advantage. What a meddling wizard he is.

Bag End is where I must go. Atop the highest hills it lies. It is not difficult to find and is not due to the fact of slithering vines leading me. No… well, yes. No amount of acute senses can truly fill the void my sight left. So with the gentle nudges of vines and the sort, I find myself in front of a… door. Listening intently, I hear many voices. Low and gruff voices, laughter and… Gandalf. I know those particular mutterings.

With no further delay, I raise my fist and knock on the entrance. Strangely, all goes silent… Quite suddenly, the door opens with a slight creak.

"I thought that was the last of that loud lot," Clearing their throat, the unknown voice spoke again, "Good evening, how may I… help you?"

"Apologies, I did not mean to intrude. I am Linnea, Illúvatar be with you. Is there a… wizard here?"

"No, no, I welcome kind folk just as any other hobbit. Bilbo Baggins, at your service, " He pauses and grumbles in annoyance, "If a certain Gandalf is who you seek, then yes. He is here. Please, come in."

I slightly nod and carefully step through the entrance. It is warm, the atmosphere calm. Taking a breath in, I smell various foods and… leather? Odd.

"Feel free to remove your cloak and the like. Those noisy dwarves already made a mess here." Bilbo grumbles. I know he must be a Hobbit. He is quite short as far as I can tell, and the pattering of large feet on wooden floor sounds as he walks. Yes… he is a Hobbit.

"I will save you more clutter by keeping my cloak on, Master Hobbit. Much than-"

"Ah! Linnea, dear, it is wonderful to have you here. I see you have met Bilbo, yes. Come, you must meet the others." Gandalf says. Grasping my shoulder, he quietly leads me forward. As soon as we stop, the strong scent of leathers, oils, dirt, and smoke invade my nose. The odor is surprisingly bearable, and very dwarf-life.

"Who is this stranger, Gandalf?" Turning my head towards the deep voice, I sigh. Of course the wizard would neglect to tell of my arrival.

"Linnea. I cannot say I am surprised that you do not know of me." Mutters were travelling back and forth between unseen persons.

"A woman? If you think I will allow a woman to journey with us, you are more a fool than I believed, wizard." This unknown dwarf is angry. Rightly so, I suppose. I also realize that Gandalf did not mention of me being a woman.

"Now Thorin, Linnea will aid us greatly on this quest. You-"

"A burglar Hobbit with no training or experience with weapons or travel is one matter. A frail woman is quite different. I will not allow two potential burdens on my journey."

To say I was not offended would be a very obvious lie. I know dwarrow value their women more than any jewel, however, I am no dwarf. I doubt this company is aware of what I am. Oh, Gandalf, what a mess you have made.

"Thorin Oakenshield, I know of you. Prince of a once great kingdom. Now, a homeless king. Do not let my appearance affect your judgement." My tone is not hate-filled and I hold no ill-will towards the dwarf king. However, I am much too old to have patience for this thick-headed man.

"Your _appearance_ is unknown to us due to the hood of your cloak. I merely judge based upon the voice I hear."

Raising my hand to my head, I feel cloth. My hood is so often upon my locks that I tend to forget it is there. And so, I silently remove it.

"Your race of Men look upon the dwarrow as filthy creatures. Yet we forge your swords and armor. You have no place here, girl." Thorin says coldly.

I suppose I do not fault him for that. I am aware of the way Men treat those they think below them. And I know the cruelty they lash out unto others… for they have extended such coldness to my people before.

"I know well how cruel Men can be. I, however, am not of such a race, despite my likeness to them. I am of the Feien, Master Dwarf. And I am no girl; I am much older than I seem."

"I thought Faye had wings-"

"Quiet now, Ori! You should not speak to strange folk."

I turn towards the new voices. I assume they are quite close by their interaction… perhaps a familial bond?

"Aye, we all know the children tales of the Feien folk. An' this lass here 'as no wings." A gruff voice huffed this out.

"Gloin is right, Thorin. This lass is taking us for fools." This one's voice is rough… the sound of one who has seen the horrors of this world.

At this point, all of the dwarves begin speaking loudly, each attempting to be heard over the other. I can only cradle my temples in pain and annoyance. Dear Eru, why must I bear this. And curse that wizard… oh, yes…

"QUIET!," Thorin roars loudly, all the while worsening the pain in my head, "It matters not of the tales. You remain a woman and you will not come."

"Whether you allow me to accompany you or not is of no consequence to me. I care not. I am only here due to the insistence of a troublesome wizard." So much trouble and I have not been here for more than a few minutes.

"Now, now, Thorin," Gandalf starts, "The journey ahead of you is perilous. What help Lady Linnea can offer will only benefit your goal to take back Erebor." He pauses but I sense a strange aura… Oh, that wizard. Magic is one way to convince a thick-headed dwarf. Poor sod.

The silence stretches on for moments. If it were not for the smell of leather and smoke, I would have thought I was alone.

"Thorin, you are not truly thinking of-"

"What have you to offer our company, Girl?" Thorin questions, a strong undertone of annoyance in his voice.

"To your company, nothing. To your quest… I offer my blades. To your wounds, I offer my magicks." I truly wish to leave. If it were not for Gandalf, I would not be here. This journey, I fear, will end only in pain. I do not know what this quest entails, nor do I know what is to become of me. And though I have this grand urge to run… There is a prickling in my heart to see this quest done.

"I will not be responsible for your safety," I expect no less, my well-being is my burden, "Balin, give the girl a contract." With no other word, heavy stomps pass by and fade.

Those left in the room shuffle but do not leave. The crinkling of parchment sounds and a soft click of what I assume is a quill seems quite loud in the silence.

"We dwarrow are quite thorough in the writings of contracts, lass. Perhaps it would be best to have a seat and read. If there are questions, you have but to ask." I like this voice. It is soft and kind…

"...Gandalf." Oh that wizard! What mess he makes.

"Yes, dear?"

"Do not act so innocent. You are aware of what you have neglected to inform the dwarves of."

"Perhaps you would be so kind as to tell us, lass." Oh what a kindly dwarf, Balin.

"I cannot see. Therefore, I cannot read.," I tiredly offer, "Do not take my ailment as weakness. I have travelled alone throughout the wilds for many years."

The wilds of Middle-Earth are known quite well to me. I have been on my own for nearly three-hundred years. Yes, I am no stranger to the perils that afflict this world.


End file.
